


A Very Long Summer

by Gray Cardinal (Gray_Cardinal)



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Cardinal/pseuds/Gray%20Cardinal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda for the second-season finale, "A Deadly Game" [with <b>spoilers</b> for that episode).  Suddenly, no one is looking forward to summer quite so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Long Summer

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _Castle_ is the creation of Andrew W. Marlowe and the Castleverse belongs (more or less) to ABC Studios. This story is purely a figment of the author's imagination, and may or may not reflect the studio's and show staff's perspective on the characters.
> 
> **Notes:** This is a coda to the second season finale ("A Deadly Game"); if you have not watched that episode, thar be spoilers ahead. Note that this story is not necessarily consistent with the events of the _Autumn of Our Content&lt;?i&gt; series._

**1 • Kate**

_He doesn’t know_.

It was what she kept telling herself as she walked briskly along the Manhattan sidewalk, instinctively weaving her way through the late-afternoon sea of pedestrian traffic toward her new apartment, deliberately ignoring everything except her own inner turmoil.

On the other hand, he probably _had_ known she’d hooked up with Tom within the first week.  Not from gossip – they’d both been cautious enough that the precinct grapevine mostly hadn’t noticed yet – but just because he was Castle.  Between his uncanny people-reading skills and his positive genius for showing up in the wrong place at the right time, he’d probably caught on almost at once.

But as good as Castle was, he could be fooled.  That prostitute had almost managed it, and Kate herself had been using deception against him since they’d met, even if the results had been mixed.  As for Gina...she wasn’t sure who was fooling whom there, but for all that the two of them had sounded so damned chipper there in the hallway, every instinct she had told her there were still piranhas swarming underneath the surface of that relationship.  If it even was a relationship.

_And I’m one of them.  Or all of them, maybe_.

She’d known there was more to her chemistry with Castle than just friendship.  She’d resisted admitting it to herself, even after the disastrous date with Mr. July, but now that Esposito had called her on it, there was no point in denying her attraction.  She could imagine the TV reference Ryan would use (well outside her earshot): _Resistance is futile.  You will be assimilated._ 

But Castle didn’t know; she’d bank on it.  As much as he’d flirted, joked, and occasionally propositioned her straight out, as much as he himself might be attracted to her, he clearly didn’t realize just how strongly she was attracted to him.  It was, she suspected, one of his blind spots – he‘d convinced himself so thoroughly of his own universal magnetism that he couldn’t tell when someone else’s interest was more than an automatic reaction.  So when she’d admitted to being together with Tom, he’d taken her at her word.  Only once she’d admitted to herself that Castle was what – or who – she really wanted, she had to admit that Tom...wasn’t, quite.  He might have been, once.  Hell, if he’d been willing to keep things loose, he might still be.  But he wanted more than that...and Kate knew she couldn’t give it to him.  Whether Castle knew it or not, he’d become the only true partner she’d ever have.

It was going to be a very long summer.

**2 • Tom**

_I should have known_.

_No_, he corrected himself, _I did know, and I charged in anyway_.  The whatever-it-was that Kate Beckett and Richard Castle shared had been impossible not to see – except, of course, that neither one of them seemed to have noticed it.  That, at least, was what he’d thought at first.  If he’d thought Castle had even a glimmer of the true state of affairs, he wouldn’t have asked about taking his own shot.  And if he’d thought Kate had any interest in actually pursuing a relationship with Castle, he’d have left well enough alone.

But he hadn’t left well enough alone.  He’d seen the minefield and willingly stepped right into the middle of it.  And while it had lasted, what he’d shared with Kate had been incredible, in bed and out of it.

Then one of the mines had blown up in his face.  He still wasn’t sure quite what had triggered it, but Kate had apparently finally smelled the cappuccino (or maybe had had it held forcibly under her nose) just at the moment he’d tried to push for a stronger commitment.  It had, he reflected ruefully, been precisely the wrong moment to make that move; if he’d been content to keep things casual, he might still have had company at that cabin this weekend.

Kate, though, had clearly made her choice; if she committed to anyone, it would be Castle.  He hoped Castle had also been force-fed a dose of that cappuccino; the man might be blindingly intelligent, but he also had a truly amazing streak of selective obliviousness.  If he didn’t realize just how strong Beckett’s feelings were, Castle might very well do something spectacularly stupid purely by accident – and no matter how much Tom might want to pick up the pieces if that happened, he wasn’t inclined to step into the same minefield twice.

It was going to be a very long summer.

**3 • Gina**

_I wonder if he knows_.

She flicked a sidewise glance at Rick, then turned her eyes back to the road.  She’d only met Kate Beckett a few times, all very briefly, but there’d been no mistaking the expression of dismay on the detective’s face when Gina had appeared to collect Rick for the trip to the Hamptons.  Beckett had clearly fallen and fallen hard – and then had had to stand and watch as she, Gina, took the prize away.

_I don’t see how he can_, she told herself as she drove.  If Rick had realized what that look had meant, he’d be in his Prius now instead of her Fiat, and Beckett would be riding shotgun.  And there’d be no telling whether or when the final draft of _Naked Heat_ might be finished, because the two of them would undoubtedly spend the entire summer joined at the hip.  Or by other body parts.

On second thought, that wasn’t entirely fair.  Romance had never kept Rick Castle from delivering books before; if anything, it was the lack of romance that seemed to slow him down.

_Except when we were married_, she reminded herself ruefully.  The wedding had happened after another one of those hours-long conversations, ranging from Bronté to Austen to  Shakespeare to Stoppard to Chaucer to Rex Stout with side trips into British folklore and Chinese mythology and half a dozen other subjects besides.  They had been – and still were – beautifully complementary when it came to literature, and together they’d made his books regular fixtures on every bestseller list there was.  But for some reason, their shared passion had never manifested in the bedroom, and neither one of them was made for a marriage where the sex didn’t sizzle.

She had told Beckett the truth back at the precinct; her plan for the summer was to see _Naked Heat_ finished – between the movie and the advance she’d agreed to on the new three-book deal, Black Pawn couldn’t afford not to bring it out on time.  If that meant sleeping with Rick (and she wasn’t yet certain whether it would or not), she was willing to go there.  But she had a feeling it wouldn’t sizzle, any more than it had the first time around.  Especially if Rick had a certain New York police detective on his mind – and even if he didn’t realize how that detective felt about him, everything he wrote about Nikki Heat spoke volumes about how he felt about her.

It was going to be a very long summer.

**4 • Rick**

_I just don’t know_.

The scene at the precinct wouldn’t stop replaying itself in his head.  He’d missed something important, he was sure of it.  But he’d be damned if he could figure out what it was.

Gina’s arrival had startled Beckett, that was certain.  Hell, it had startled _him_.  The original plan had been to meet at his garage; there was much more room in his Prius than in her stylish two-seater Fiat.

Her line about “keeping on top of things” hadn’t helped either.  That had been a surprise, too – he’d agreed to take her with him to work on _Naked Heat_, not to canoodle.  Not that he’d be averse to a good canoodle, but his relationship with Gina had always been more intellectual than sexual.  What they shared was a mutual passion for language and story – but somehow, that had never translated to passion of the physical kind.

Which meant that Beckett probably had entirely the wrong idea about Gina’s motives for hustling him out of Manhattan.  Not that that should have been grounds for complaint, since she should be on her own way off by now, for a romantic weekend with Tom Demming.  In hindsight he’d been six kinds of idiot to give the Robbery detective his blessing to romance Kate, but that was water under the bridge; Beckett had made her choice clear, and Rick Castle didn’t go back on his promises.  _Water under the bridge?  God, now I’m thinking in clichés.  Good thing I’ve got an editor in the driver’s seat._

Maybe that was it, though – maybe Demming had stood her up or cut her loose.  It seemed unlikely, after he’d been gentleman enough to ask permission before moving in on her, but sometimes the nicest-seeming ones turned out to be the scummiest.  He reached for his cell phone; a quick call to Beckett would surely clear things up.

_No, I’m being paranoid.  And selfish.  Interrupting Kate’s getaway would be tacky._

Deliberately, he folded his hands in his lap and tried to focus on the scenery.  Clearly it was going to be a very long summer.

# # #

 


End file.
